


That's Where You'll Find Me

by JeannetteRankin



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 1940s, F/F, Getting Together, New York City, Resolved Sexual Tension, Show tunes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-03
Updated: 2015-02-03
Packaged: 2018-03-10 06:57:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3281030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JeannetteRankin/pseuds/JeannetteRankin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Angie takes Peggy out for a night on the town. Showtunes are sung. Peggy gets more than she bargained for. There are no men above the first floor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was one of those dank, misty kind of nights that seemed to overtake lower Manhattan at times. The streets gleamed and there were puddles everywhere, and it seemed that the clouds had come down from the skyscrapers to sit amongst the streets. It wasn't thick like the London fogs she remembered, but hazy, just enough to give the streetlights and illuminated windows of the buildings a gauzy halo and make the world feel unreal.

“C'mon, English” Angie told her, taking Peggy by the arm and hustling her along the sidewalk. “I wanna get inside before it rains on us.”

“Alright, alright.” Peggy was regretting wearing the black high heels that were currently making walking over the uncertain cobbles difficult. “If you'd told me we were going to the West Village, I would have known not to wear these shoes.”

“Next time I'll give you a detailed itinerary, okay?” Angie answered her back.

“Yes, thanks. Though with your typing skills, I have to wonder if it will be legible,” Peggy nudged her friend with her elbow as she said this. Angie squawked indignantly at the insult.

“Well, at least I got you out. You'd never have come out tonight if you hadn't lost that bet, admit it.”

“You make me sound like a hermit,” Peggy objected. “I go out to things.”

“You never go out!” Angie tossed back at her.

“That's not true, I went to that museum with you, and there wasn't any bet that time.” She had. Angie had spent over an hour gawking at a retrospective of opera costuming. Peggy had spent the time watching the clock, and had finally left her friend and wandered off to the arms and armor section, which had at least been somewhat interesting.

“Yeah, and you were bored out of your gourd the whole time, I thought you were gonna throw a temper tantrum before we were through.” Angie hadn't been best pleased with Peggy's behavior. They'd agreed to forgo anymore joint museum outings. In fact, they'd had trouble finding many things they could both bear to do together. Oh, as long as they stayed at home, they could sit around for hours talking and listening to the radio, or playing cards with Susan and Colleen. On those rare mornings where they were both at home and things were quiet, they liked to read the newspaper and comment to each other about the goings on in the world. But Peggy didn't want to go out much, and she didn't usually want to go to the places Angie wanted to go to.

“I went, though, is the point.” And she thought she'd been a relatively good sport about it.

“Your problem is, you need to be _active._ You don't just wanna go somewhere and look at stuff.” Sometimes she thought Angie had far too much insight into what Peggy was really like. She wondered if the woman really believed her cover story of working at the phone company.

“So, how is tonight different?” As far as Peggy knew they were just going to some bar for drinks.

“You'll see.” Peggy argued that at least she had a right to know the destination she was being dragged off to, but Angie refused to divulge. The argument ended when they reached the corner of seventh avenue. “Look,” Angie exclaimed excitedly. “We're here!”

Peggy looked around, but could only see a few shuttered storefronts and some apartment buildings, along with a dingy restaurant or two. “We're...where, exactly?” She couldn't keep the skepticism out of her voice.

“C'mon,” Angie urged again, crossing the street and walking up to what looked like an unprepossessing cafe of some kind. “Are you ready to have a good time?”

“I don't know, what is this place?”

“Only the best bar in all five boroughs.” Angie told her with an elegant wave of her hand and a flourish. “Peggy Carter, I present: _Marie's Crisis_.”

“A-ha,” Peggy said, somewhat dubiously.

“You'll see,” Angie told her, again, repeating the enigmatic smile.

As soon as the door opened, Peggy could smell the wafting odor of beer, which she'd expected, and hear a raucous strain of piano music and singing, which she had not. They descended the stair and hung their coats on hooks along one wall.

“ _...those trumpets blow again/All aglow again...”_ The sounds of several voices singing in quite decent harmony came from near the piano in the sunken main room, where a balding man in a green check coat was playing the old show-tune to a group of half a dozen or so people clustered around an upright piano.

Other than the pianist and the singers, it seemed like a fairly normal bar room with dark wood paneling, the bar against the back stacked with glasses, having several taps, and a harried-looking bartender. Peggy scanned the room, instinctually assessing the space and the other patrons. No visible threats, exit through the back in addition to the front. She really ought to relax.

“ _I see a rainbow blending now/We'll have a happy ending now”_ the voices went on.  She glanced over at the sound of Angie's voice joining in the signing. Angie just winked at her and sang on, leading the way to a free spot close to the instrument. Peggy knew Angie was a singer, but had never properly heard her before.

Taking one more look around from her new vantage point, Peggy noticed there were two people hanging back from the singing, sitting in the far corner at one of the few tiny tables along the side opposite. One was sitting in the other's lap and they were obviously kissing with more enthusiasm than was quite appropriate for a public venue, as far as Peggy was concerned. At once, with a bit of a start, Peggy realized that it wasn't a man and a woman in a suit who were kissing, but rather two men.

Abruptly, she turned away and refocused herself on the group of singers. By the end of the song, even Peggy was humming along. The tune was catchy, even if she couldn't recall all the words.

“ _On the ball again/I'm riding for a fall again_ ”It was a romantic, upbeat tune, and you couldn't hear it without it gladdening your heart. Peggy wasn't sure what to make of the meaningful look that Angie was giving her, though. Angie knew by now that Peggy had lost a sweetheart in the war. Was this her nudging Peggy to look for a new man? She wasn't sure she cared for that idea.

“ _I'm gonna give my all again/Taking a chance on love._ ” The last notes of the song died away, and everyone applauded and cheered. Peggy joined in, applauding and enjoying the cheer of the others.

Several of the people around the piano greeted Angie as soon as the applause died away. She was well known here, it seemed. “Hey, you sound real good, there, Angie!” An older woman in an oddly cut suit came over and greeted her.

“Thanks, Ruthie.” Angie leaned over and gave the woman a big kiss on the cheek. “I haven't see you here in forever, where have you been hiding?”

Peggy didn't like that Ruthie put her arm around Angie's waist, and seemed to have eyes only for her. It was a familiarity that rubbed Peggy the wrong way.

“This is my friend Peggy, who lives down the hall from me,” Angie graciously introduced her. Peggy put on her best company smile for the woman, who returned it with a frank, assessing gaze.

“Oh, you told me about her! You've been talking about her forever, I thought you said you'd never get her to come out.” The woman, Ruthie, smirked as she said this, and Peggy didn't quite care for her tone.

“Well, I thought I never would,” Angie said, smiling at Peggy in a way that warmed her. “But you know, Peggy here doesn't know when to pass up a bet.”

“Oh?” Ruthie inquired, archly.

“Oh, yes,” Angie said, warming to her story. “Miss Fry, you know I told you about her, well, she always puts on airs like she's the manager of Hotel Balzac instead of the lousy old Griffith. She's never seen downstairs in less than full battle armor, with every daub of makeup in place. Well, one day we were talking, and English here says 'She'd never come down with her hair in curlers unless the building was on fire.' So I said, 'I bet I could get her to.' And you know, one thing leads to another, so we're making a bet, with the stakes that if I won, Peggy would have to come out with me.”

“And how did you do it? How'd you get her to come down wearing curlers?” Ruthie asked.

Angie just smirked, looking Peggy in the eye and waggling her eyebrows, but still addressing Ruthie in her reply, “That, my friend, is a whole other story. That I'll tell you another time.”

“And it's good for her that she won,” Peggy put in. “Because if she'd lost, she'd have had to give back those blue pumps she 'borrowed' a month ago.”

“I'm going to give them back, I swear,” Angie protested. “Eventually.”

“What a scamp you are,” Ruthie said, laughing a little and patting Angie on the cheek. “Now, are you going to sing for us tonight, or not?”

“It'd be a shame not to sing properly, with Peggy finally having a chance to hear me.”

“Well, it's got to sound better than when you sing in the shower,” Peggy told her. Angie's friend laughed heartily at that. Angie put on a face of faux-indignance, but Peggy thought she was really happy to have her joining in the raillery.

“You owe me drink for that,” Angie told her pertly.

Peggy acquiesced and fetched them both drinks from the bored bartender. Two dry martinis. She handed over the two dollars without complaint. She'd gotten used to the outrageous price a drink would cost you in Manhattan.

“Here we are then,” She handed one glass over to Angie, who was looking over the sheet music with the pianist.

“Thanks, doll.” Angie told her, taking a swig from the glass before setting it on the piano. “Now, you're in for a treat,” She announced to the group with a feisty grin.

“Modest as ever,” Frank the pianist said. “You'll have to excuse her, she doesn't believe in hiding her light under--”

“Under a bushel. Or anything else, for that matter,” Angie broke in and finished for him. “Frank's going to play a special solo for me. And you all get a free preview of my Broadway career,” She said the last part loud enough for all the little crowd to hear. A few people hurrahed, some looked skeptical. Angie just winked at Peggy.

The piano started. Angie straightened up, took a deep breath, and began to sing.

“ _Somewhere over the rainbow/Skies are blue”_ The song swelled enough to fill all the tiny space. The people by the bar stopped shuffling, and everyone turned to watch Angie. Her voice was gentle and rich, perfect for the melancholy song.

Angie transformed by singing. Her face, usually animated and goofy, had settled into a wistful yearning expression that would have put Judy Garland to shame. Peggy's heart ached listening to her and watching her. She couldn't tell if the ache was for herself, or Angie, or just for all the things that people wanted from life that they couldn't ever have.

Angie was well put together as always, hair a perfect cascade of honey-brown, wearing a peach colored dress that flared around the hips just enough to make her look glamorous. It wasn't the dress or the hair, though, thought Peggy, staring, along with everyone else, at her friend. It was all Angie.

“ _Someday I'll wish upon a star/Wake up where the clouds are far behind me”_ By the final stanza of the song, everyone in the small bar, even the bartender, was hanging on every note.

She finished on the poignant  _“why then, oh, why can't I?”_ and stood, keeping the bearing and pose of the song for a long moment. The entire bar waited with her in silence for a second, then everyone broke out into loud applause.

All at once, Angie dropped the serious posture, grinned her normal wide grin, and gave them all a cheeky curtsey. Someone in the back whistled.

By the time Angie escaped the adulation of the others, Peggy had regained her composure a bit. “So, what'd you think?” She asked, smiling.

“How has Broadway not made you a star yet?” Peggy asked, and it wasn't a tease, she just felt in that moment that they really must not know what they were missing. How could anyone look at Angie and not see something extraordinary?

Angie beamed at her and leaned over, giving Peggy a resounding kiss on one cheek. Peggy laughed it off, but found herself touching the spot just where Angie's lips had pressed against her.

They had another drink each, this round bought by a kind-looking man who said, “After a performance like that, you deserve a treat, my dear,” to Angie.

To which Angie replied, ingeniously, “If I do, then my friend does, too.”

The gentleman laughed and obligingly brought back two drinks.

Soon enough the crowd was ready for another song. “Something we can all sing along to this time, Frank!” a woman exclaimed.

Obligingly, the man started playing a song that Peggy didn't know, but evidently most of the other patrons did. _“The costumes, the scenery, the makeup, the props/The audience that lifts you when you're down,”_ they sang, including Angie. Peggy hummed along as best she could, and joined in at the chorus. _"There's no business like show business..."_ By the end of the song, she was cheering and clapping once again along with the rest of them.

“Enjoying yourself?” Ruthie came up after and asked her.

“Yes, thanks.” She really was. It had been ages since she'd had the simple feeling of being among good company. “It's quite cheerful here; I'm glad I came. Angie told me she wanted to show me a good time.”

“I'll bet she did, honey,” the woman told her with a wink.

Peggy felt herself flushing, taken aback. “Yes, well,” she said. Angie came back at that moment and slung an arm around her shoulder, pulling her close. The line of Angie's body pressed against her side, so they were touching everywhere from shoulder to knee. Peggy could feel one of Angie's hip-bones pressed against her. This only increased Peggy's confusion. “Hello there, have you had enough?” She asked Angie.

“What, enough? It's not that late,” Angie protested.

“All the same, I think I'm ready to go home. I can go by myself if you'd like to stay.” Peggy knew she was being rude, but she couldn't stay, not under the gaze of Ruthie and the men who'd been kissing in the corner. She felt like Angie's kiss from earlier had left a lipstick stain like a beacon to anyone looking at them.

“Jeeze, okay. I'm not gonna let you go by yourself. You want to go right this minute?”

“I'd prefer it, yes,” she insisted.

Angie sighed, but agreed. She sent Peggy off to fetch their coats while she said goodbye to a few people. Peggy chose to wait outside in the cooler air. The city still had that haze about it, everything seeming unreal and far off. It was surprisingly quiet, with only a few lonely pedestrians walking by. They were just far enough from the main thoroughfares for her little stretch of damp sidewalk to feel sheltered.

“What's the big rush?” Angie's voice came from behind her, just following the creak of the door and one last burst of faint sound from within. “You getting' sick on me?”

“No, no, nothing like that. Shall we?” She gestured, hoping that Angie would drop the subject. She ought to have known better by now. Angie never dropped an uncomfortable subject, and she never let one of Peggy's excuses stand without getting to the bottom of it.

“Just tell me what your problem is,” She insisted, raising her chin stubbornly. For a moment, the lift of her chin and glint in her eyes, combined with the frank words, sent a lance of painful memory through Peggy's heart. Angie was nothing like Steve, not really. But there were certain similarities.

“Everyone in there thought we were lovers. That Ruthie woman all but said as much.”

“So?” Angie drew out the syllable, raising a perfectly arched eyebrow.

“Did you bring me here to embarrass me?”

“What, you're embarrassed to be seen with me, now?” Angie said, meeting her tone for tone. In Peggy's calmer moments, it was one of the things she liked best about her—she never backed down. Peggy was used to bowling most people over, but that would never work on Angie Martinelli.

The mad idea gripped Peggy with sudden force, and she had never been very good at resisting mad ideas.

She went right up to Angie, leaned in, and kissed her right on the lips. The kiss only lasted about a second. It was oddly smudgy, lipstick against lipstick, and Peggy didn't have her wits about her enough to try anything fancy. She just pressed their lips together, making that one point of contact between them. Angie's lips were soft and wonderful, and she rested there just a beat before pulling back.

Peggy sucked in a deep breath, shocked at her own actions. She swallowed, then nervously watched Angie's face for any reaction.

 


	2. Chapter 2

They caught a cab on seventh avenue. Angie protested that they could just take the train, but Peggy offered to pay the fare. She didn't want to be on the train right now where people would be looking at them.

She held the door to the taxi while Angie scooted in, then slid in after. Peggy let Angie give directions to the driver. Peggy didn't feel like she had any room for words in her chest right now, it was too full. She didn't look at Angie, but resolutely kept her gaze out the window, eyeing the streets flashing by. A minute later, as the taxi took a corner, Peggy felt something brush against her hand where it lay on seat. She glanced out of the corner of her eye, like something you couldn't look at straight on. Angie's fingers, with the nails painted red and one just slightly chipped, rested next to hers.

Peggy let it sit for just a heartbeat. She could pull back still. She could make some excuse about the kiss, say it had been a misunderstanding. Angie would see through her, of course. She'd have to move out of the Griffith, and stop going to the automat, and she'd never have to deal with all this.

Gently, subtly, she pushed her fingers up against Angie's, closing the tiny gap. When Angie didn't pull hers away, Peggy pushed more, intertwining their fingertips. Her heart rate sped up as she did so, feeling acutely the warmth and slight calluses of the fingers against her own, somehow more intimate than the kiss of a few minutes before. She kept her gaze resolutely out the window, though she wasn't taking in anything that was passing before her eyes.

It seemed to take a long time to get back to sixty third street. Angie started slightly rubbing her thumb against the back of Peggy's hand, and she wasn't sure if she wanted it to stop immediately, or never. At last, they found themselves at the Griffith. Peggy had to draw her hand away to pay the taxi driver.

They didn't speak, or look at each other on the way upstairs, though Angie exchanged a few words with a girl in the lobby.

Upstairs, they stopped at Peggy's room and stood looking at each other for an awkward moment. “Are you going to invite me in, English?” Angie asked, outside the door of 3E.

“You know the rule.” Peggy said softly. “No men above the first floor.”

“Well, I dunno if you noticed this, sweetheart, but I'm no man.”

“That..had occurred to me.” She met Angie's eyes, and the kindness in them made Peggy smile an invitation. “Won't you come in?”

Peggy stood in the middle of the room, acutely aware of the bed behind to her right. She stood and watched as Angie closed the door behind her, took off her coat, and hung in on a hook.

Angie stepped closer, almost close enough to touch. “You look beautiful,” She said in a softer tone than her usual brassy voice. It made Peggy's heart skip a little. She wanted to say something very suave and sensual back.

“So do you,” was what she came up with instead. It was true, though. Angie had the most beautiful smooth skin, and the loveliest sparkling eyes. Ever since she'd first seen her in the diner, Peggy hadn't wanted to take her eyes off her. No matter what else was on her mind, she wanted to watch Angie, who made even the terrible waitress uniform look graceful, waltzing across the linoleum floor with a sureness and confidence that drew people to her. Peggy was no exception.

Angie smiled. She gently took both of Peggy's hands, tugging her in closer. Peggy drew in a little breath as her breasts brushed against Angie's. They were almost of a height, and standing so close, there was nothing but a few layers of fabric between them.

This time, the kiss was more deliberate, slower. Angie's soft lips pressed against hers, then moved, gently. Peggy was acutely aware of every place they were touching. Angie's tongue brushed against her lips and it sent shivers through her whole body.

Peggy pulled away, feeling herself flushing. Angie's eyes shone, the same way they'd shone when she'd been singing about rainbows earlier, with a look like she was so suffused with awe that she might burst. To have it directed at Peggy was wonderful, and overwhelming. “Give me just a minute, would you?”

“Sure thing,” Angie said, rather breathless.

Peggy retreated to the toilet. She relieved herself, then splashed a little water on her face, trying to calm down. It was ridiculous to be nervous, she told herself. All her life she'd heard that she was brave--from people who liked her--and reckless--from those who didn't. Right now she didn't feel either one in the slightest. She put both hands on the rim of the sink and, for a long moment, just let herself breathe and try not to think.

“Alright, now,” She said at last, looking at herself in the mirror and meeting her own eyes. “Nothing terrible is going to happen. You're going to go back out there and face her. This isn't scarier than facing down a HYDRA squadron.”

She took a deep breath and went back into the room. She saw Angie sitting on the pink bedspread, innocently. She was sitting in the exact same spot where she'd sat just two days ago, chatting while Peggy did up her hair for the night. Peggy'd had to all but toss the other woman out that time, insisting that she needed her sleep. Now she wondered what Angie had been hoping would happen.

“Come here,” Angie beckoned, patting the bed beside her. Peggy went and sat. Angie didn't move to touch her. “You doing okay?” She asked.

Peggy nodded. “I feel rather foolish,” She confessed.

“You don't hafta feel foolish.”

“It's not that I'm wholly inexperienced.” Peggy said. “I'm not a virgin.” She waited to see if Angie had any reaction to that, but Angie only nodded like it was what she'd expected. “But those were...”

“Men?” Angie guessed when Peggy trailed off. Peggy nodded, glancing away. “Well, that's okay. I can't say I care for 'em, myself, but to each their own,” She said with a comical grimace. Peggy let out a nervous laugh at that.

“Yes, well, I'm simply worried I might--” She found herself hesitating again. “That I might disappoint you.”

“Hey, hey,” Angie reached over, then, putting one hand beneath Peggy's chin and raising her eyes to meet her own. “It doesn't work like that, sweetheart.” The endearment sounded tender. “Maybe with those guys, but not with me. Okay? Nothing you can do could disappoint me. Except if you didn't like my singing,” She added, grinning a little.

“I love your singing.” Peggy said, honestly.

“There you go.” Angie said, satisfied. She dropped her hand to run it along one of Peggy's arms. She leaned in slightly closer, almost close enough to kiss, and spoke in a low, gentle voice that had a twinge of the urgency of lust behind it. “So, how about this. I'm going to take off your dress. And then your underthings. Then I'm going to lay you back on this bed and do some things. And what you gotta do, and this is real important, when you like what I'm doing, you have to say so. And it's okay if you don't like something, too. I know you're a girl who speaks her mind, which is part of what makes you so sexy.” Angie finished and waited Peggy's response, heat in her gaze as she watched Peggy's face.

“What about you?” The heat that had rushed to Peggy's groin during that speech had all but made up her mind for her.

“We'll get to that after. Okay?”

“Alright,” Peggy said, hating the slight vulnerable tremble in her voice, but nodding her head and firming her resolve. She turned around a little, giving Angie her back. “You can start with the zipper.”

Angie laughed a little, and leaned in to give a kiss to the back of Peggy's neck before grabbing the zipper pull.

*

Peggy snapped awake in the dark but didn't move. Someone was in the room with her. Where was her nearest weapon? She felt the bed shake.

Just as her hand found the balisong under the mattress, her memory caught up with her. The rustling of the mattress was Angie getting up. It was pitch black. Peggy reached and flicked on the lamp on the bedside table.

“Hey,” Angie said in a sleep-full voice. She was up and had her dress back on. Her hair was a complete mess. Peggy supposed her own was the same.

“What time is it?”

“'Bout five. Time for me to be going.” She sat on the side of the bed and stroked her hand through Peggy's hair, which felt lovely. “Go back to sleep.”

“Don't go,” Peggy said. She wanted Angie to get back under the covers with her at once. “It's Sunday, we can have a lie in.”

“Sounds wonderful, but I can't. Miriam gets up at five thirty, so if I get back now, she'll never notice.”

“It's not against the rules to spend the night in another girl's room.” Peggy argued, running her hand along the soft skin of Angie's back. Angie gave her a look like she was being cute, but naïve. “What?”

“Honey, it may not be against the rules, but people will talk. Miriam won't tolerate this kind of thing in her house. She just doesn't dare make a rule against it, because it'll put the idea in people's heads that this is that kind of place. Trust me, it's better if I get back before morning.”

“Oh.” Peggy's heart sank. “So, you've done this before?” Her voice didn't sound quite as neutral as she wanted it to.

Angie smiled at her. “I'm no nun, that's for sure. I had an affair with a girl named Jenny who used to live upstairs.”

“Any others?” Peggy couldn't stop herself from asking.

“Let's not talk about it right now, okay? Don't start getting jealous on me. I've been angling for you for months, or didn't you notice?” Angie leaned down and kissed Peggy briefly, but sweetly, on the lips.

“I'm noticing now,” Peggy told her in a breathy voice. Angie laughed a little at that. Peggy gently shoved her away. “Alright, go on with you. But wait, won't Kitty hear you come in? The walls aren't that thick.” Kitty was right next to Angie and had a reputation for sticking her nose in everyone's business and knowing things she oughtn't.

“Oh, she will.” Angie said, archly, standing and hunting for her shoes. “But don't worry about that, she'd never tell on us.”

“Why not?” Peggy'd seen enough of Kitty to know that they couldn't depend on the woman's goodness of heart.

“'Cause she knows if she did, I'd tell Miss Fry about the fact that she's fucking the dutch girl who lives on six.”

Peggy had nothing to say to that. She wanted to ask if all the girls here were sleeping with each other, and she'd been too thick to notice. Instead, she got up, pulled on her peignoir and saw Angie to the door.

Angie had her hand on the doorknob when Peggy said, “Wait,” and pulled her back by the arm, then wrapped both arms around Angie's waist and brought her in for one last proper kiss. “Thanks,” She said.

“What for?”

“For winning that bet and making me go out last night. And for taking such good care of me, and, oh, for everything.” At that, Angie kissed her again.

When she finally let the other woman go, Angie smiled at her and said “See you later, sweetheart,” then quietly opened the door and crept out into the hall.

Peggy closed the door behind her, then leaned against it and let herself really smile, for the first time in...she couldn't remember how long.

**Author's Note:**

> Marie's Crisis is a real place, but I took some liberties with the timeline. It was around in the 40's, but I don't think it became the fabulous showtunes bar it is today until the 70s or so. So Peggy and Angie are wouldn't have been able to visit today's version, but you can if you're ever in lower Manhattan, and you should!


End file.
